The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-06-08
CHARLES WESLEY.

tie white horse, gray with age. 1t APP
pears to have been brought every morn
ing from the foundry-an arrangement
which its master did not ike. but
which it was impossible TO avoid He
was somewhat stouter than his brother.
but not corpulent- Henry Moore saws
that he wore winter clothing even in
summer. When he mounted his horse.
If a subject struck him, he proceeded
to expand it and put it in order This
he used 10 write on a card in short
hand with his pencil. Not unfre-
quently he used to come to the house
in the city road, and having left the
pony in the garden in front, he would
enter, crying out, .Pen and ink, pen
and inkr' When these Were given him,
he proceeded to write out his hymn
This done, he looked around on those
present, saluted them with much kind
ness, inquired after their health, and
then gave out some short hymn.
What impression he produced on
strangers may be understood from
William Wilberforce's account of his
first interview with the venerable poet,
at the house of Hannah More. He
says: Il went, in 1892, to see her, and
when | came into the room Charles
Wesley rose from the table, around
which n numerous company sat at tea,
and, coming forward to me, gave me
solemnly his blessing. | was scarcely
ever more affected. Such was the effect
of his manner and appearance that it
altogether overSet me, and | burst into
II,
When City Road chapel was built,
Charles Wesley preached there or in
some other Methodist chapel every
Sunday morning and afternoon, except
when he was supplying the congrega-
ton in Bristol, or was laid aside from
his growing infirmities. His ministry
was solemn and awakening, yet full of
tenderness for the mourners. When in
good health and under the special in
tluence of the spirit, as he often was,
he was fluent and powerful He used
short, pointed sentences, full of scrip
ture sentiment and phraseology. .In
prayer he was copious and mighty,
especially on sacramental occasions,
when he seemed to enter into the holi-
est of all by the blood of Jesus" If
his thoughts did not flow freely. he
was very deliberate in the pulpit, MAX
ing long pauses as though waiting for
the spirits influence 'EIn such cases
he usually preached with his eyes
closed he fumbled with his hands
about his breast, leaned with his elbows
upon the bible and his whole body was
in motion. He was often SO feeble as
to be under the necessity of calling up
on his congregation to sing in the
course of his sermon that he might
partially recover himself, and be able
to finish his discourse" Till within a
few months of his death he continued
his ministry in the London chapels.
Every lover of Charles Wesley's
poetry has been touched by the diving
effort of his muse. For some time he
had been lying quietly ON his bed. At
last he called for Mrs. Wesley, and ask
ed her to write the following lines at
his dictation:
In age and fecbleness extreme
Who shah Il sinful worm redeem:
Jesus. my only nope Thou art
Strength of my failing flesh and heart;
q, could catch smile from Thee,
And drop into eternity!
On Saturday, the 29th of March, his
happy spirit fled. Through the whole
week the restlcssness of death had been
on him. He slept much, without re-
freshment. On Tuesday and Wednes-
day he was not entirely sensible. His
| end was what he particularly wished it
might be-peace. mo fiend, he said
to his wife. ''Nas permitted to approach
him. Someone observed that the val
ley of the shadow of death was hard to
be passed. Not with Christ, was his
answer. He spoke to all his children
with affection and hope of their saliva
ton. Samuel Bradburn sat up with
him the night but one before his death.
| His mind was calm rs a summer even
ing. On the Saturday all the family
stood round his bed. The last words
which they could catch from his lips
We're: Lord, my heart, my Godr'
With his hand lying in his daughters,
the old saint passed home so gently
that the watchers did not know when
the spirit fled. 1t was afterward ascer-
tanned that John Wesley was in Shrop-
shire, and at the moment of his broth
er's death he and his congregation were
| singing Charles Wesley's hymn:
| One army of the living God.
| To His command we bow;
| Part of His host have crossed the food,
| And part are crossing now.
The Quiucr.